[He'd sworn this was the right location. He'd even double-checked to make sure. Something in the air is making the hair on the back of his neck stand on end, and his instincts are all but shrilling with warning. This isn't right. Suddenly, the whistling of the air being cut is enough to make him spin, and he has just enough time to thrust an armored gauntlet between him and the blade, his arm quivering from the sheer force.]